Tideswell in an Uproar, Or the Prince in the Town, and the Devil in the Church.
Reading edition
One Sunday in 1806 the Prince of Wales, afterwards George IV., passed through Tideswell, in the High Peak, and stopped to change horses at the principal inn of the place. The circumstance caused, as was only natural, considerable excitement in the place, which culminated in not only the whole of the congregation of the parish church, but also the clergyman himself, and his clerk, forsaking the service to see him pass. This circumstance gave rise to much merriment, and more than one ballad was the result. The following is the best:—
Declare, O Muse, what demon 'twas Crept into Tideswell Church, And tempted pious folk to leave Their parson in the lurch. What caused this strange disaster, say, What did the scene provoke? At which the men unborn will laugh, At which the living joke! The Prince of Wales, great George's Heir, To roam once took a freak; And as the fates did so decree, He journey'd through the Peak. But, ah! my Prince, thy journey turn'd The Sabbath into fun day; And Tideswell Lads will ne'er forget, Thy trav'ling on a Sunday. The Ringers somehow gain'd a hint, Their loyalty be praised! That George would come that way, so got The Bells already rais'd. The Prince arrived, then loudest shouts Thro' Tideswell streets soon rang; The loyal clappers strait fell down, With many a merry bang. To Pulpit high, just then the Priest, His sacred gown had thrust; And, strange coincidence! his Text "In Princes put no trust." With Man of God they all agreed, Till bells went clitter clatter; When expectation did them feed, But not with heavenly matter. The congregation, demon rous'd, Arose with one accord; And, shameful, put their trust in Prince, And left the living Lord. They helter skelter sought the door, The Church did them disgorge; With fiercest fury, then they flew, Like Dragons to the "George." As through Churchyard with tumult dire And wild uproar they fled; Confusion was so great, some thought They would have rais'd the Dead. The Parson cried, with loudest lungs, "For love of God, pray stay!" But love of Prince more prevalent, Soon hied them fast away. The Demon hov'ring o'er their heads, Exulted as they pass'd; "Friend Belzebub," the Parson cried, "Thou'st got a Prize at last." The Clerk then to his master said, "We're left behind complete; What harm if we start off for Prince, And run the second heat?" The Parson with good Capon lin'd, Then ran with middling haste; Spare Clerk, was at his rear, who knew, "Amen," should come the last. Amidst the mob, they soon descried The Prince, Great Britain's Heir; Then with the Mob they both did join, And play'd at gape and stare. Their wish the sovereign People show, Impress'd with one accord; It was to turn themselves to beasts, And draw their future Lord. The Prince put forth what's filled with sense, It was his Royal sconce: Insisted they should act like men, And break their rules for once. Steeds more appropriate being brought, Huzzas formed parting speech; The Prince drove on and people went To swig with Mrs. Leech. Thy Flock's frail error, Reverend Sir, Did serve a loyal dish up; For which, if Prince has any grace, He'll surely make thee Bishop.
Another short piece on this same subject may be added:
Ye Tideswellites, can this be true, Which Fame's loud Trumpet brings; That ye the Cambrian Prince to view, Forsook the King of kings? That ye, when swiftly rattling wheels Proclaimed his Highness near; Trode almost on each other's heels, To leave the House of Prayer? Another time adopt this plan, Lest ye be left i' th' lurch; Place at the end o' th' Town a man To ask him into th' church!